The Finest Gift
by AllisonEmmaSmith
Summary: Elizabeth is determined to enjoy the Christmas holiday at Netherfield with newlyweds Jane and Charles Bingley. But she will have to face Darcy for the first time since the argument that led to their broken secret engagement.
1. Chapter 1

**This variation is a new release currently available on Amazon. Chapters posted weekly.**

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Elizabeth should have gone down to dinner fifteen minutes ago.

Instead, she relished the blessed silence around her as she sat at the vanity table in her room at Netherfield.

Had this been Longbourn, she would have no doubt had to endure the muffled shrieks and laughter of her younger sisters as they dressed.

She brushed her hair, imagining Kitty's whining as Lydia purloined a new ribbon or a pair of gloves, and then Lydia's provocative replies.

But inside this room, there was a balanced share of peace and quiet.

Elizabeth realized she had been fiddling with the string of pearls around her neck and rose from her cushioned chair, sighing.

She thought she looked presentable in her new gown, an early gift from Jane. It was a daring color for her; a deep wine-red, edged in black lace with tiny winking beads. But Jane swore it added a saucy blush to her lips and cheeks, while simultaneously throwing her dark curls into sharp relief, and underscoring the smoldering glow of her brown eyes.

She reminisced as to how Darcy had once complimented her eyes.

Smoothing her hands down her sides, she strode from the room towards the stairs, determined to face the source of her consternation.

The Bingley sisters.

Darcy.

Soon, she would face an entire room of people who did not know Elizabeth had rejected his proposal. Would they sense the tension between them? Would he cut her in public?

She did not think so. Ever the gentleman, Darcy would consider such behavior boorish and beneath him. She reflected that she was the only one who had thought the verbiage of his proposal insulting. Even Jane had looked at her askance.

Nothing he had said was untrue.

She frowned slightly.

"Lizzy!" her mother chirped behind her.

A door opened and shut. Elizabeth turned with a soft sigh.

"Since you are so late coming down, you may accompany me," Mrs Bennet said. "I fear I shall get lost in such a grand home! Honestly, how can I be expected to find my way around? Such an immense place! You would think they would have sent a footman. I am the mother of the mistress of the estate. I fear I am getting a headache already," she prattled.

"Mama, perhaps you should stay abed?"

Silently, she willed her mother: _Please, stay in bed._ "If you are ill, we must see that you are rested in order that you may recover."

"Nonsense. But you may take my arm, I do feel faint." She grabbed Elizabeth's arm with vigor, leaning her weight on her daughter.

Elizabeth braced herself.

"But I must do my duty by Jane. I cannot leave her alone to host dinner without her mother present to support her. Not with those—well, I shall not say any more. No more shall I say."

Elizabeth escorted her mother down into the waiting crowd.

When they entered, the rest of the family was already gathered. Mr Bennet slumped in a chair in a corner, peering at everyone from behind spectacles. Kitty and Lydia giggled in a corner with a wide-eyed and much quieter Miss Darcy, and Mary stood several lengths away, silent and scowling.

"Lizzy, dearest, I was about to come up for you," Jane said, approaching.

"She had a headache," Mrs Bennet announced. "And I insisted she rest, as a loving mother should, but she would not miss dinner on account of a headache."

Jane's blue eyes wrinkled in concern. "If you are not feeling well -"

"I am fine," Elizabeth said, voice dry. "Almost as if the headache had never been."

"I see. Well, in that case." Jane turned, a smile spreading across her face as her husband joined her at her side.

"Dear sister!" Charles took her hands. "I have not seen you in some time. Was London agreeable?"

"As agreeable as it could be, considering the weather. I enjoyed my aunt and uncle's company," Elizabeth said with a smiled.

"Of course. But now it is our turn to enjoy your company. Jane has been desolate without you."

"Surely not, Mr Bingley," Mrs Bennet interrupted, "for she has had her dear mama. And nothing can make up for a mama, not even a sister."

"Certainly, Mama," Jane said, ever dutiful.

"Miss Bennet," a cultured feminine voice said. "_So_ pleased to be in your presence again." Her tone, of course, implied the opposite.

Elizabeth could avoid the others no longer. She steeled her spine and turned her head as the trio approached.

Darcy. Caroline. Louisa.

Two of them her least favourite people, and the other . . .

Darcy held himself slightly apart from Bingley's sisters, and as Georgiana walked up to his side, it was clear that distance was intentional. As his sister approached, he paused, his expression softening. A warm gleam entered his blue eyes as he stared down at her.

Georgiana smiled as lovely as Elizabeth remembered from meeting her at Jane's wedding.

"Miss Bennet, I am so happy to see you again. Jane and I have become like sisters, and I feel I already know you so well."

No mere mortal could resist the impact of that sweet smile. Elizabeth returned her greeting, infusing all the warmth she felt. "Jane wrote and told me you were at Netherfield, and I hurried home, so I would not miss you again. I fear you have ousted me from my elder sister's side," Elizabeth added teasingly, "for she will not stop writing of you."

"It is a delight to be in such happy company," Jane said. "We never lack for sunshine at Netherfield while Miss Darcy is present."

"How kind of you to say so, Jane," Miss Darcy said, blushing.

"Yes, so kind," Caroline Bingley said, sounding as if she meant the exact opposite.

She gave Jane an oblique look; one Elizabeth would almost describe as jealous if it were not so absurd. Why be jealous of her own sister-in-law's relationship with Miss Darcy? Especially as Miss Bingley had known Georgiana first.

"You must be so happy to have Miss Darcy present for the holidays, Miss Bingley, as glowing an opinion as you have always had of her."

"Miss Bingley has always been very kind," Georgiana said softly.

"We were delighted to hear you would be joining us as well, Miss Bennet," Caroline said. "Absolutely delighted."

Elizabeth smiled and knew it looked genuine. She had been practicing ever since she realized she would be required to spend the holiday with Caroline. She wished to appear sincere, especially if it meant also spending time around Jane and Charles.

Mrs Hurst murmured something, and Elizabeth supposed it was meant as a greeting. Louisa held a wineglass in her hand, not even a quarter full. From her glittering eyes, Elizabeth could surmise this was not her first.

"I have been looking forward to this ever since Jane said she and Bingley were planning special festivities," Elizabeth said.

Jane looked at her husband again, her face glowing. "It is our first Christmas together! We wanted it to be special."

Caroline made a face. It was subtle, but enough of a departure from her usual studied elegance that Elizabeth noticed.

"Oh?"

"She has not told you all about her plans?" Louisa asked archly. "I would have thought—but perhaps it is difficult to maintain such closeness between sisters when one is wed, and the other is not?"

Was this meant to be a snipe directed towards Caroline? Caroline's mouth thinned, but she did not respond.

"I fully expect Jane to devote her time to her new family," Elizabeth said. "We could not be happier for her bliss."

"I said from the beginning, did I not, Mr Bennet, that Jane was meant for Bingley. Why, a girl of her beauty, it would have been a tragedy to throw herself away on a nobody!"

Mrs Bennet's prattle came to an end, and Elizabeth could no longer use the others as a distraction from finally facing him.

Elizabeth curtsied. "Mr Darcy."

His bow was perfect.

"Miss Bennet. I hope your travel from London was satisfactory?" His gaze pierced her attempt at aloofness.

"Quite. I was pleased the weather cooperated." She could not seem to look away, though she was aware of the others around them.

"I, too, was in London a fortnight past," he said quietly, drawing a little closer. He looked down at her, blue eyes grave. "If I had known you were visiting, I would have insisted you return with us."

"Those horrid stagecoaches," Georgiana said. "They are so uncomfortable. My brother would not have allowed you to endure it had he known. I am so glad we were able to travel on our own."

"Georgiana," Darcy said. It was not quite a rebuke, as he would never do so in public.

Elizabeth smiled at her, tearing her gaze away from his. "I quite agree. Private accommodations for travel are always ideal," she demurred.

There. The first greeting, the first meeting of gazes, the opening pleasantries were out of the way. Now she could safely ignore him, allow him to pretend she did not exist and refuse to acknowledge the aching tension between them both.

She refused to acknowledge that burning look in his eyes. A single, brief flash of connection from their shared history. At least, now, in his presence, one question was answered. He would not cut her, would not be cruel or unnecessarily cold.

Caroline, however, was less than pleased by Elizabeth's presence. Although Elizabeth took it as more of a general discontentment with Charles' marriage. Having her as a sister-in-law was a middling issue, more than her finding any specific objection to the second-eldest Bennet. Caroline outright ignored Lydia and Kitty—though no one could fault her for that—other than the occasional covert look of contempt.

Elizabeth stiffened her jaw and smiled, making polite conversation, helping Jane maneuver their mother so her complaints and boasts remained within the confines of tolerable discourse, and otherwise refused to be baited.

"Jane, dear, have you thought on my suggestion?" Caroline asked, placing a concerned hand on Jane's arm.

"Well, I have given it some thought but have not had time to. . . ." she began.

"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "No one would expect a newly married woman to have time to see to the proper decor of her home for the holiday festivities. And this is not the sort of thing you leave to a housekeeper."

"What's this?" Charles said. He looked around. The room was graciously furnished, and a bough of evergreen and holly lay across the fireplace mantle. "I thought we did decorate."

Elizabeth recognized some of the decor from items from Longbourn's annual celebrations. It made perfect sense—if the family would be at Netherfield this year, then Jane would have wished to use their traditional decorations.

"Well," Caroline said with a light laugh, "Jane made an admirable attempt, but you cannot expect her to know what is required of a house like Netherfield. I am sure your little family things are fine for what you are used to -"

"Fine, indeed!" Mrs Bennet exclaimed. She eyed Caroline askance. "Jane has done a charming job of it. I helped her myself."

"Jane does everything perfectly," Charles said, eyes adoring. "I cannot think of one accomplishment she has put her mind to that she has not perfected."

"She is a credit to her family," Darcy said, shocking Elizabeth with such high praise. "You are a fortunate man."

"Oh, Mr Darcy, you are far too gallant," Caroline said with a sweet smile. It was unlikely to be the last time that night her laughter would grate on Elizabeth's ears, unfortunately. "But come, tell Miss Bennet the wonderful news, Jane."


	2. Chapter 2

Elizabeth's heart stopped.

She swung her gaze back to Jane, eyes widening in inquiry.

Jane blushed and grabbed her husband's hand. "Charles and I—well, we wanted to announce tonight that we -"

Mrs Bennet clutched her chest.

"Oh, my. Oh, dear Mr Bennet!"

"—are donating our Christmas to the poor!"

"What?" Mrs Bennet screeched. "Lizzy, my arm! I feel faint!"

Elizabeth gave Jane a look.

Her elder sister smiled a small, secret expression that showed her streak of mischief. "I believe mother had expected other happy news," Elizabeth teased.

Jane blushed.

"Yes, well, Charles and I, we feel so fortunate to have found each other. To have our family and home and to want for nothing."

Charles took Jane's hand, lifting it to his lips. "You have the most generous heart, the most angelic spirit. It was all her idea, but I wholeheartedly support her. What better way to give thanks for my bride?"

"But Jane," Kitty protested, "we cannot give away all our presents! We deserve them just as much."

Jane opened her mouth to respond, but Elizabeth cut her off. "We must learn to think about the happiness of others, Kitty. We have so much already, and some are in need."

"You and Jane are always mucking about with the farmers and their children. Making baby clothes and passing out soups and – ugh! It is just not at all how a lady should behave. Like a nun. Or a spinster."

Lydia laughed, a high tinkle a bit too loud for the room. "Oh, then it is the perfect occupation for you! Anything that a spinster does."

"You will be a spinster before I am a spinster, Lydia Bennet! If Jane can marry a rich man, so shall I."

Elizabeth suppressed a shudder, but she supposed they were all family now. It was not as if Elizabeth had any marriage prospects to harm.

The thought brought a small grin to her lips and nearly a chuckle.

"Do you care to share what has amused you?" Darcy asked quietly. "I find myself in need of distraction."

She glanced at him, surprised, and paused, realizing he had somehow drawn closer to her while she had been lost in thought. He looked down at her, expression grave, with no hint of mockery or disdain in his eyes.

"No thoughts of any significance, Mr Darcy," she replied in an even tone.

"I did not mean to chase your smile away."

She frowned at him, uncertain if there was any hidden meaning in the soft words, words that could be misconstrued as either flirtatious or hinting at deeper feelings than surface pleasantness.

Elizabeth chose to address him as an acquaintance. "You did not, sir. It was a passing memory of a Christmas long passed, nothing else."

"What a relief," Caroline said, drifting closer. Her red-gold hair gleamed in the candlelight, pinned in a froth of loops and braids Elizabeth thought somewhat overdone for a family dinner.

But then, Mr Darcy was present, and Mr Darcy was still unmarried. "We would not want to think Miss Bennet was secretly laughing at us."

Elizabeth smiled blandly. "I would never secretly laugh at you, Miss Bingley."

Darcy coughed, and turned away, engaging his sister in conversation. Caroline's smile froze on her face for a brief moment, before warming into something that immediately set Elizabeth on edge.

"But come, tell me truly, what do you think of Jane's quaint little idea?" Caroline asked. "Spending Christmas mucking about with the orphans and widows—dirty and lazy, most of them, hoping to take advantage of a heart as big as Jane's. If someone must coddle the poor, why should it fall onto our shoulders?"

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Miss Bingley, you are being deliberately provocative. For shame. I cannot think you truly hold such cold sentiments. Our parish is home to many families who are not so fortunate as we, and if they are dirty, it is only the honest grime of a hard day's work. You have often commented about the mud soaking my hems, as well. I have yet to come across a widow or orphan I perceived as lazy."

"It is uncharitable of you, Miss Bingley," Darcy said. "I understand your discomfort—I can think of better ways to spend my time aside from delivering baskets to the poor, but the intent is noble. We may yet bring some small cheer to their hearts."

Elizabeth turned her head, stabbing him with a look. "And how would you better use your time than feeding and bringing cheer to the poor, Mr Darcy?"

"It is woman's work," was his blunt, unperturbed reply.

He met her stare unflinchingly.

"If my tenants are poor and hungry or cold, I had better use my time to determine how best to provide them with industry with which to better their place. It does no good to give a man a basket of charity but not allow him the means to provide a basket for himself."

She searched to find something wrong with his argument other than the rather haughty comment about 'woman's work' but could find no fault in his logic.

"I must agree. If one has the means to set up the industry for the poor to provide for themselves, that is a more efficient use of time and capital. However," she bared her teeth at Caroline, "we have too little time available to us to do ought but prepare baskets."

"And gifts," Jane added quietly.

She had stood nearby listening, apparently patient with her sister-in-law's barely concealed scorn. "It would do us good to donate gifts to the mothers and children. Food is good and necessary, but I suppose they deserve something special."

"Louisa," Caroline said, raising her voice, "prepare to hand over your presents this year to Jane's orphans and widows. Though where a country widow would use the pair of opera gloves and matching reticule, I had designed for you, I do not know."

"There was no need to spoil the surprise, Caroline dear," Louisa said laguidly. "Now you shall have to purchase me a new gift. I insist. Darcy, tell her I insist. Surely you agree she owes me a new present?"

Darcy said nothing, and when Elizabeth gave him a sidelong glance, he blinked. She was sure that she detected a gleam of contempt in his gaze as he turned away from Louisa and Caroline.

As the evening wore on and they all went into dinner, Elizabeth watched Darcy surreptitiously. Especially since Caroline behaved like a hound with a meaty bone. Even Jane's patience began to wear thin, Elizabeth noted. Jane held her mouth tight as she ate in silence.

"Christmas is meant to be a time to share with family and close friends. A time to give thanks for our home and positions. A time of celebration to herald a new year," Caroline opined, as she took a long sip of her wine. She set it down emphatically. "'Tis not a time to trek through the snow, our noses numb and our feet frozen, delivering baskets! Any other time of the year, it is our duty to be charitable to the poor, but this should be our time."

She emptied the glass, and motioned for a servant to refill it.

"I was quite looking forward to visiting the children," Georgiana offered, rather timidly. She glanced at her brother, who nodded subtly, and straightened her back. "I feel quite useless some days. I think it would be a fine thing to employ our time in pursuits other than perfecting embroidering or screen painting or, or. . . ." she paused, lost for a moment.

"Choosing new ribbons for our bonnets!" Lydia exclaimed, then laughed. "Though that is quite charitable work if one considers the joy it brings to the gentlemen of the parish." She lifted an eyebrow with an arch smile.

Georgiana blushed as Kitty tittered. Mary looked up from her plate. "Yes, I am confident the poor parish children take great comfort that you have well turned out bonnets. _'Whoever is kind to the poor tends to the Lord, and he will reward them for what they have done_.'"

"Then Kitty and I shall reap bountiful rewards," Lydia said. "I quite agree with Miss Darcy. It is more fun shopping for other people, and I enjoy wrapping gifts. I have several bonnets I have only worn once, and I shall include them in the basket."

"As will I," Kitty said hurriedly. "Plus, I have those gloves with the flowers I embroidered. The stitching is quite nice, but the color of the threads did not match what I had in my mind."

"My girls have generous souls," Mrs Bennet said, looking at them fondly. "I have always said they take after myself. I was a giving child, too. I am still so giving. I give of myself so much I make myself ill. Do I not, Mr Bennet?"

"Quite often, my dear," he agreed. "You as so often are taken to bed ill from a surfeit of goodness."

Caroline's lip curled upward, and she barely spared Mary a glance. "Surely, you cannot consider the time you have spent perfecting your accomplishments as a waste, Miss Darcy! Your brother would never countenance such thinking. He fully appreciates an accomplished lady. Do you not agree, Miss Bennet?"

"I would not presume to know Mr Darcy's mind," she replied coolly, "though this is rather a repeat of a prior conversation. Mr Darcy already made his opinion known that the best accomplishment is the improvement of one's mind?"

"Is that what I said?" he murmured. "Hmm. I cannot disagree."

"And one cannot improve one's mind by giving away Christmas!" Caroline gave Elizabeth a defiant look.

"But one can improve one's appreciation," Jane added. "At home—at Longbourn, I mean, while growing up, whenever I thought that perhaps I wished to be a grander person, I only had to remember how -"

"Much worse it could be," Elizabeth interjected, voice dry.

"Well, I cannot imagine giving up my gifts to strangers, who could have no possible use for them." Caroline's voice was final.

"_'Those who give to the poor will lack nothing, but those who close their eyes to them receive many curses,'_" Mary recited.

Elizabeth hid a smile, for once amused by Mary's biblical verses. Mary spoke quietly, but her tone was no less edged for all its softness.

"I agree," Darcy said.

Caroline blinked, then spun on Mr Darcy and gave him a brilliant smile. "I knew you would, Mr Darcy. You are a man of -"

"I agree with Mrs Bingley and Miss Bennet," he said.

He nodded at Mary as well.

"Though I find the idea strange and not entirely useful, it has merit in that it will teach the younger ladies the qualities of gratitude and charity. My sister is correct—an accomplishment that is rarely taught young people these days is the accomplishment of employing one's time to better the world."

Georgiana smiled at him, then slid a glance at Caroline. Elizabeth wondered if anyone else noticed her tiny smirk as the girl lowered her gaze to her plate and resumed eating. Perhaps Miss Darcy did not like Miss Bingley quite as well as she pretended.

"How about a compromise?" Charles asked.

The assembled gave him their attention.

"There is value on both sides of the debate, but I certainly do not want any of the ladies to enjoy the holidays any less than is possible," he began.

"What do you propose?" Elizabeth asked.

He and Jane exchanged a look, which led Elizabeth to believe the conversation had not only gone precisely as they had anticipated but that they had prepared what they would say in advance.

"A secret gift exchange," he announced.

"We shall all withdraw a paper containing a name from a hat," Jane continued. "The name you draw, you will gift that person exactly one present."

"So, it should be well thought out," Charles chuckled.

"Handmade gifts show not only the regard for the maker but in the act of creation give us time to contemplate our good fortune and the qualities of the one we are crafting the gift for," Mary intoned. "I approve."

"I am so glad, dear," Jane said, with every appearance of sincerity. But then she had always excelled at honesty.

Elizabeth sighed to herself. Probably because it was true. Jane was entirely too good-natured. If Elizabeth had said something like that, she would have been secretly making a joke.

"We will not reveal whose name we received until Christmas day," Jane said. "We thought the surprise would make the festivities special."

"A little something different." Charles laughed. "It would do you good, sister. I sympathize with whoever draws your name. What do you make the woman who already has everything?"

He smiled, showing that he intended the words kindly, but Elizabeth did not think Caroline found them funny.

Louise, however, did. "Oh, this will be a riot! Caroline, dear, if you end up with crocheted doilies, please be a dear about it."

Caroline gave her a venomous look.

"It is a charming idea," Darcy said. "You are correct, Bingley. It lends a little something different to the season. And, I suppose you approve, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth took a moment to finish swallowing, surprised he even addressed her—but then it seemed many of his comments this evening were directed to her.

"Anything that makes my sister happy makes me happy. You should know that, Mr Darcy."

"Indeed." He met her gaze briefly, a small twist to his lip that vanished as he looked at Bingley again.

"When do we draw names?"


	3. Chapter 3

What did one make or purchase the man who had everything?

It had been just her luck to draw Darcy's name from the hat. She would have thought Jane arranged it that way, but there was no trickery Elizabeth could think of to ensure such an occurrence. Having to present him with a gift would make staying away from him all the more difficult.

It would make not thinking about him nearly impossible.

"Take time and truly consider the person before you make or purchase their present," Jane had instructed. "We should use this as an opportunity to get to know one another better."

As if she needed to know Darcy better!

She knew him well enough now . . . did she not?

The man in question walked at her side, back straight, and his hands clasped behind him. She glanced at him, noticing that the tip of his nose was ever so faintly pink. So, he was a mere mortal, after all. . . .

The observation gave her much satisfaction.

"Are you cold, Mr Darcy?"

He broke his reverie to give her a quizzical glance. They were both bundled up in their winter outerwear, and he looked as elegant and dignified as one could when trussed up all in black.

"The temperature is tolerable for the time of year it is," he said, noncommittally, and glanced up at the sky. "Any day the sun shines is a gift."

"I did not know you could derive joy from such simple pleasures."

He tilted his head and slowed to a stop. "Why would you think I cannot? It is the simplest gifts that give the finest pleasure. A cup of tea on a cold morning, a warm fire on a cold afternoon. Agreeable company on a cold night."

The snap of cold in the air exacerbated the blush rising to her cheeks. He held her gaze as he spoke, but she refused to read anything into his words.

"Why have we stopped?" she asked.

He nodded his head forward. "This is the first shop you said you wanted, correct?"

Elizabeth turned, feeling foolish. "Indeed, it is, which proves I have not been paying proper attention."

She began to enter the shop and started when he reached around her and opened the door, bowing his head.

"Thank you," she murmured. "But I fear such courtesies are wasted on me."

"Courtesy is never wasted on an enchanting woman," he whispered, his voice close to her ear.

Elizabeth almost froze as the words caressed the hair alongside her cheek. She controlled herself, determined that she not reveal how he affected her.

Browsing through the merchandise selecting items Jane needed for her gift baskets, Elizabeth remarked, "It is a pity Miss Bingley refused to come. Not even she could disdain this selection."

The shopkeeper hovered at his counter, having already approached once and been sent scurrying away by the polite, but forbidding expression on Darcy's face. And now she knew what kind of shopper Darcy was—he did not like to be sold to, but preferred to browse in peace.

He did not complain once as she stopped to linger over her choices, merely stood at her shoulder, a silent presence.

She could not take it any longer, however. Her spine tingled, ants marching up and down until she broke the détente in the conversation.

"Surely, you have a more pressing business than to stand watch while I peruse, Mr Darcy?"

"There is nothing more pressing than keeping my word to your sister," he replied.

Elizabeth turned back around, grimacing when he could not see her expression.

_Thank you very much, Jane, for insisting I would need an escort to help me with packages. Thank you very much for insisting only Mr Darcy would do, and not a footman._

Traitor.

"Commendable," she said.

He must have caught the displeasure in her tone, though she tried to keep it neutral.

"Does my presence displease you?"

"Not at all, Mr Darcy. Why would you think so?"

She set down the stack of plain handkerchief.

Examining them closely, she finally chose the bundle with a bit of blue embroidery around the edges. She recognized the pattern—one of the local wives' groups made these handkerchiefs and sold them to the shop to earn some meager income. As handkerchiefs always came in handy when one had small children, several stacks of these would do nicely as part of the care packages she was considering.

"You are usually more loquacious, Miss Bennet. I hope I have not offended you," Mr Darcy offered.

She waved away his concern. "You would have to speak more than two sentences for there to be enough words with which for me to take offence, Mr Darcy."

"Ah. I see. I suppose, then, that I should keep my conversation under two sentences at a time, to assure I am safe."

She turned, narrowing her eyes at him. "What does that mean?"

He lifted a brow. "Only that I wish to remain—or perhaps enter, I should say—into your good graces."

Her heart skipped a beat as she met his gaze. "I can hardly think why you should desire to do so?"

"Can you not?"

His tone was pleasant. Very pleasant.

"Can you not think at all? Not hardly?"

"You are mocking me."

"I would never be so bold."

"You just did it again!"

His eyes widened.

"I would never suggest that you are incorrect, but perhaps you are mistaken?"

"That is the same thing, Mr Darcy. Literally, the same thing. Just different words."

He appeared puzzled. "How can different words mean exactly the same thing? Then why have different words?"

They both paused, considering.

Then Elizabeth remembered herself. She refused to allow him to—to . . . bait her into one of their debates. The debates that had always seared her soul with joy and anticipation.

Until they hadn't. . . .

Their first argument had been their last, she recalled:

_"Her influence on my sister is untenable. Elizabeth, surely you can see that your father has allowed your sisters to run wild? If you cannot manage them, I cannot have them at Pemberley once we are wed."_

_"If you cannot accept my sisters, then we cannot wed! I am not ashamed of my family, and their youthful exuberance will calm as they grow older."_

_"Exuberance! Elizabeth. They are the silliest, most ill-mannered girls I have ever witnessed in my life! They are far more than exuberant."_

Even now, her temper sparked at recalling the conversation, spoken in low, angry tones that then devolved into nearly shouting.

She shook herself, and walked towards another display. She smiled at him, the satisfaction that she was correct regarding his character a warm cloak around her shoulders.

"In fact," he continued, "I believe Georgiana could benefit from time spent around girls of an age who demonstrate such fearlessness regarding the opinions of others. Too often, I have seen individuals cave where good sense and morality should dictate they stand their ground. And only for the most vapid of reasons—approval, inclusion, usually some form of expectation that one favour fashion over integrity."

Who was this man, and when had he absconded with Fitzwilliam Darcy?

"My sisters are not brave," she said, gathering herself. "They simply are too silly to care if their opinions are shared by others who should have more wisdom and experience."

"I think you do them too little credit, Miss Bennet," Darcy countered. "Miss Bingley is no easy woman to hold one's ground against. From the forces of her scorn alone, I have seen her banish lesser people to dark corners. Yet, Miss Lydia and Miss Kitty laugh in her face."

His lips curved, his blue eyes glinting with something that, charitably, one might call humour.

She instead thought of it as satisfaction. The satisfaction of seeing a not-quite-enemy experience a public comeuppance.

"It is a refreshing sight," he continued. "I have noticed that lately, though, you choose to simply ignore her."

"I hardly ignore her. I have decided to arm myself with Jane's arsenal."

"Goodness?" His mouth pursed. "It works for her because she is so skilled at appearing sincere and desiring, all that is good for others no matter how poorly they treat her. Forgive me, but I do not think you would be able to successfully employ those tactics."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

They noticed another woman enter the shop and begin to browse, but neither of them moved. "Are you implying I am not good? Not sweet? Or, is it that I lack the skill for feminine dissembling?"

He gave her a look. "Elizabeth, you always twist my words to take the most negative connotation. That is why you will never be Jane. She can make herself _believe_ in the goodness of others and their intentions. It is why she is successful even when she is mocking. The best lie is the one based in truth."

His words stung, but only for a moment. They were sincere, after all, and truth had never bothered her. Much. Except when it came to Mr Darcy.

She picked up the knife set, and examined it. It was sub-standard to her tastes, but it might find some use in the kitchens of a poorer household.

She set it aside.

"Well, I wish to enjoy this family holiday, so I will try not to bait or otherwise arouse Miss Bingley's wrath," Elizabeth said. "Though I have no idea why she should dislike me so."

"Now you _are_ dissembling convincingly. Well done."

Elizabeth scowled.

Darcy lifted his hand, as if to smooth the expression away, but lowered it back to his side. "Did your mother never tell you that when a beautiful woman scowls—"

Her heart leaped in her chest. "She is courting the disaster of premature wrinkles?"

That was a small bit of hypocrisy, coming from him. A faint scowl was Darcy's perpetual resting face when in a large company of those other than family and close friends. She was surprised the expression was not forever etched onto his countenance.

But, just now, his expression was inscrutable.

"No. When a beautiful woman scowls, it is a challenge to a man to make her happy. To ease it away."

"You speak such nonsense, Darcy."

She had quite had enough of this conversation. Unwilling to admit how the intensity of his gaze, the message in his voice, unsettled her, Elizabeth brushed past him to resume her shopping.

He seemed content to end their duel for now, for he occupied himself with purchasing oranges for the gift baskets, to be delivered to Netherfield on the morrow.

"It is a thoughtful gift," she said. "An offer of nutrition, so it is practical, but also enough of a delicacy to make it seem something special."

"I am glad you approve," he said with no apparent sarcasm. "I had also wished to ask for your advice on selecting a gift for Miss Kitty."

"Oh! You drew her name from the hat. She will be ecstatic."

And would spend all year crowing over how _Mr Darcy_ had given _her_ a Christmas gift.

His lips curved again. "I would like to give her something special, as she was so amenable to Mrs Bingley's idea. We should reward her show of generosity and cooperation."

He would be well aware of his appeal to the female gender, especially the class of females that particularly appreciate rich, handsome bachelors.

Elizabeth's lips pursed. "If it is a message you want to send disguised as a gift, then I have an idea."


End file.
